Above the water, against the wind Feel the stones through your soles to your feet Trying to get away from Or make up for Another cut glass sleep Hiding away past Norfolk Street Exactly where you're meant to be Shattered voices break the surface the noise And shattered bottles too Then your hot-stepping feet Are dodging debris Down the back lane route Where clapped-out cars creep a yard or two The beat the warden's pocket book Four-storey buildings chill the streets You pull up your scarf to your chin Certain that you've had enough of yourself But you come round again You grant yourself a side-eyed grin Every no-one deserves a win Your breath breaks through the surface noise You tighten your scarf round your throat Sometimes the grind Gives what you need And sometimes it won't Sometimes it gives what you need Most of the time it won't